Hunting Lemonade

When hunting gives you lemons………squeeze them on the deer back-strap and slap it on the grill! Or, as we did today, rattle or grunt your own animals in! Anyone that knows me has heard me say “if you don’t see animals, get out and make something happen! Go to them, or call them in!” Holt and I set out after I got off work for the ranch in Doss to do just that, knowing we’d probably be too late to make it to the blind before the feeder went off. However, we still attempted it.
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We flew into the driveway, ran into the house, and quickly applied every bit of camo we could snatch up. We whipped the car in the bushes, grabbed our gear, climbed the ladder on the cross-fence to the hog trap blind and made our way. We stooped over to clear a way to the stand through the brush behind it, not to scare any feeding animals. Then as we got close, we could hear doe and buck bleats, or grunts, in the brush across from us. I motioned to him to stay low and follow me, and around we went. Knowing the feeder had already spun, so we thought, we figured we’d see what deer we were hearing, and then crawl up into the stand to see what we could rattle in. Then, as we crouched in the brush behind the stand, we saw the feeder had been toppled over by either cattle or hogs. That would be the “hunting lemons” I was referring to! Now, time to make “hunting lemonade”!

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I could see the look of disappointment on Holt’s little face, but I winked at him and got him set up. The deer we had heard were still in the brush, literally 25 feet in front of us! Set in the ready position, I with my horns and grunt tube, and him with his little 222, I lightly began grunting. Then I scratched at the ground and small bush next to us with the horns. We could see movement, and out of the brush, the buck came around towards us! How exciting after all!

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As he came towards us, the stand now between us, I told Holt not to move a muscle. He came around the blind and stopped. Thanks to the Scent Away Fresh Earth cover scent we hosed ourselves in and store our clothes in, he had no clue we were near. I lightly grunted again and he came in even closer. Holt didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes grew bigger with every breath of the deer we could hear, and the movement of his hooves in the grassy surroundings. I could now tell he was not a mature buck we would harvest, but we could still have fun with him. He turned and walked a little further to make a scrape. We lowered the gun, and I gave Holt the horns and grunt tube. His eyes got even brighter, matching the smile under that face net.
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This continued on for a while, Holt tempting this young, unsuspecting, wild animal in so close we could see his hair bristle up, nostrils flare, and we could literally smell his musky, damp hocks that he had “scented up” to mark his territory. The best part was, Holt was doing this! You could see the accomplishment all over his face! I can honestly say I’m glad the feeder was dumped over, because this “hunting lemonade” was by far more exciting, challenging, and rewarding.